Sir Agilulf Emo Bertrandin of the Guildivern is a nonexistent knight; however, as Charlemagne puts it, 'for someone who does not exist,' he 'seems in [irksomely] fine form.' The story sounds nutty as so many crazy things are happening as if everything is just fine but once you keep your disbelief at the background and delve into what is really going on, the logic of the story begins to grandiosely emerge.

Sir Agiluf is the envy of the ambitious Raimbaut, is ever-seductive to Bradamante, and is the most charming knight of the widow Lady Priscilla. He represents the Lacanian ultraperfect yet nonexistent Other, i.e. the [mis]perception of the [super]ego, and happens to be the omnipresent exasperation of his fellow paladins.

The story gradually assumes new fascinating turns. The ultraperfect Sir Agiluf turns out to be a vexatious caviler whose knighthood is later put under question. You begin to realize the absurdity of the whole stuff and as ultraperfect is supposedly a positive word, you are left with either of the following choices: perfection is not what you once thought, or has not been positive at the very first place. Calvino masterly depicts how grotesque the extremism of whatever kind can be. He further elucidates this point in the story of the cloven viscount, where the once beloved good half; forget about the devil one, is found to be a pestiferous headache.

This is a witty story, whose nature is far from being boring and preachy. I cannot help telling you how skilfully the horrendous nature and the vacuous meaning of the wars is bared. The inane and bloody duels are prearranged through incredibly bureaucratic processes, and are further infuriated by translators who are there only to interpret the shouted insults. The knights seems to be blunderingly innocuous but are capable of causing disasters.

Three stars is a little difficult for this book, a bit of a cloven viscount itself.

Wisely, the translation/compilation puts The Nonexistent Knight, the more complete of the two stories, at the forefront: it's in many ways classic Calvino, despite being early. It pulls from the world of knights-errant, the realms of nobility, as other texts of his do. It touches on questions of existence, of what it means to be, which presages some of his more philosophical, signal v signifier pieces. It plays with unreality in an Italian magical realism... the knight is accepted as being, even if he surprises those who find out about him (a knight who does not exist is treated with little more surprised than a knight who is a woman). And in some ways, this borrows from the satire of Don Quixote while in others it presages other sendups, such as Monty Python's (it's hard not to think of the Castle Anthrax as Gurduloo romps with the maids of the castle, or of the peasants at the beginning when the Knights of the Grail are repressing their own peasants in Calvino's text). It's earnest but also fun, old fashioned and modern, and the story has twists and turns and humor and heart and movement even when it's at its most fastidious. It deserves at least a bit more than a 3 on its own.

The Cloven Viscount, on the other hand, is a bit more ham-fisted, a bit less rich. The idea is interesting, but in the end, having two characters with very one-note personalities, very cut-and-dry good-v-evil, non deviating halves of one whole, drags a bit for 100 pages. It's not without Calvino's charm, but in the end, the main drama comes in too soon, the resolution too late, and the characters, being able to exist only in fantasy, aren't really planned out logistically. It's worth a bit less than a 3 on its own.

The melding of this "Good 'Un" and "Bad 'Un" creates something that evens out to an average and respectable vote, but when it comes to novellas, where the commitment is deeper than a short story gone wrong would be, the difference in quality is unfortunately a more sour note.

Knight was way more fun and interesting than Viscount, but Calvino's style is always such a delight to read.

Non-Existent Knight Review Here

The Cloven Viscount Review Here

These stories instantly became two of my favorites I've ever read. The Nonexistent Knight is a perfect knight story, and it's absurd and hilarious, reminiscent of Monty Python. The Cloven Viscount is like an odd, gory fairy tale. Yet both are super deep and there's so much to explore.

A delightful read! All through The Nonexistent Knight I couldn't help but think of Monty Python and The Holy Grail. There was so much there that was similar and funny. The Cloven Viscount was also entertaining and thoughtful at the same time. Calvino has such a wonderful "voice" in his writing. It was an absolute joy to read him again!

In truth, I round up because this is Calvino...this was probably closer to a 3.5, but on the higher side of that number (perhaps I am getting to granular about my star-ratings?).

This was the second of three Calivno books I picked up at the "Swap Shop" at the Rockport, MA dump summer of 2018.

I enjoyed these two novellas, but neither struck me as powerfully as perhaps I had hoped. Both tales were wonderfully bizarre (I enjoyed the Non-existent Knight a little more as it wasnt as macabre and twisted/cruel as the Cloven Viscount could be). Both had similar pacing, in that they both took a little time to gain some momentum. I liked the narrator's perspective in the Cloven Viscount, but am not sure it really added much to the overall tale.

This review is a little disjointed, perhaps because I was not gripped by an overall theme or message that either tale emparted. The Non-existent Knight touched on universal themes and hinted at a wonderful metaphor for the human existence (in the way that the best fables can)...but it didn't quite get there for me. Perhaps at another time or place of reading it would. The same is true ofthe Cloven Viscount...although the yin/yang theme within each of us was apparent enough that even I am not dense enough to ignore it. What didn't come through was what to do with that observation...and perhaps the answer is that there is nothing to be 'done.'

Anyway, I will say that the Viscount had one of the best closing lines of any work I have read recently. It is worth it for that line, if nothing else.

For years I've found myself randomly thinking about The Nonexistent Knight. At times, it keeps up all night. Calvino was a genius.

Nonexistent Knight 3/5 stars - I don't think I understand what was going on with this. The framing was not my favorite thing, and Charlemagne was exceedingly eccentric. I chuckled a few times, but it was just strange.
Cloven Viscount 3.5/5 stars - Legitimately funny. Interesting presentation of the duality of man. The narrator has some stuff to figure out about himself…

These were so funny and charming

I don't recall why or how, but the year I turned 20 I discovered the work of Italo Calvino which had just been published by the Harbrace Paperbound Library division of Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Inc and I bought and consumed all they released. I've not read them since, so now, 45 years later, I am making my way through them again and they don't merely hold up, they are as wonderful, as funny and as pointedly critical as ever.

These two novellas are perfectly paired. The Nonexistent Knight is a tale told in the style of a medieval knightly romance while -- literally -- letting the air out of the whole mythos. During the time of Charlemagne, we have the story of one of the most virtuous, brave, and chivalric of all knights and he literally does not exist: he is a walking, talking empty suit of armor. While the symbolism may seem blatantly heavy-handed when put so plainly, the tale works and decimates the whole knightly code with deft humor and sardonic imagery.

As absurd a scenario as an empty suit of armor is, The Cloven Viscount tells its impossibly ridiculous tale of a viscount split in half with an absolute deadpan narrative voice. After being split in half by a cannonball, Viscount Medardo makes his way home where it soon becomes clear he has become a dark and menacing monster. It's only after some time passes when the other half makes his way home and we see that while the "good and pure" half, such goodness too can become monstrous.

But before we see the shadow side of such "goodness," this half of the Viscount has a monologue that is poignantly thought-provoking:

"Then the good Medardo said, 'Oh, Pamela, that's the good thing about being halved. One understands the sorrow of every person and thing in the world at its own incompleteness. I was whole and did not understand, and moved about deaf and unfeeling amid the pain and sorrow all round us, in places where as a whole person one would least think to find it. It's not only me, Pamela, who am a split being, but you and everyone else too. Now I have a fellowship which I did not understand, did not know before, when whole, a fellowship with all the mutilated and incomplete things in the world. If you come with me, Pamela, you'll learn to suffer with everyone's ills, and tend your own by tending theirs."

But it's right there in plain hiding: the selfishness behind the tending of others' ills which leads "the good 'un" to be rejected by the townspeople as they wonder which half is worse: the "good 'un" or the "bad 'un." The moral of this tale is obvious, but still worth remembering: "a whole person is neither good nor bad but a mixture of goodness and badness." But the Viscount, now having had the experience of both halves each on its own now learns true wisdom.

Excellent. Funny. For those who like medieval imagery.